


Tell Me I'm Good...

by WilmaKins



Series: Blood And Other Drugs [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Blood Play, Bottom Steve Rogers, Consort Steve Rogers, Dom Tony Stark, Hand Jobs, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Soft Dom Tony Stark, Sub Steve Rogers, Vampire Bites, Vampire Sex, Vampire Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:41:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26869834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WilmaKins/pseuds/WilmaKins
Summary: Steve Rogers has bad days like no one else has bad days.But then, Steve Rogers is bonded to a vampire... So, Steve Rogers deals with bad days like no one else can deal with bad days...Soft-Dom Vampire Tony Stark AU.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Blood And Other Drugs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960249
Comments: 33
Kudos: 155





	Tell Me I'm Good...

**Author's Note:**

> This fic includes references to blood, blood play and biting - although it's probably reasonably tame for a vampire story 😂
> 
> This has been written for the 1k milestone, with thanks to Jenni for the specific prompt - technically a sequel to Blood and Other Drugs, but can totally be read in isolation.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!

There was an ominous creaking sound as Steve slammed the car door.

He paused, irritably, to look back and check for damage – and to try and get his temper under some sort of control.

He forced himself to take a long, slow breath, subtly flexing his hands at his sides. Trying to silence the memory of angry voices and terrified screams. Trying to smother the images of burned out buildings and charred flesh. Trying not to feel, at all.

And then he looked up at Tony’s house, silhouetted against the evening sky. There was that familiar twist in Steve’s gut, just from knowing that Tony was near…

Screw the car. He didn’t care if he _had_ broken it. 

He strode purposefully to the front door, his temper gathering in his shoulders again the moment he stopped trying to fight it. The memories creeping back to him, like snide whispers in his head,

_You can’t just go barging in without any authorisation, who do you think you are?_

_What are just waiting around for? I thought you were supposed to be Captain America!_

_This is all your fault-_

And then the front door opened, before he could even ring the bell-

And there was Tony.

Immediately Steve felt the entire world _shift_. The tension melted from his back in an instant, as though he’d been drugged. The frightening thoughts he’d tried so hard to silence suddenly just… weren’t there. And then Tony smiled at him, warm and kind – and _sympathetic._

Steve felt something inside him give way.

“Bad day sweetheart?” Tony asked, softly, his eyes full of such beautiful sadness. Steve could only nod, heavily.

A strangely pleasant tearfulness welled up in Steve’s chest, as Tony took his hand and led him through the house.

And something else as well.

Something vast and different and more than human, something that Steve didn’t have the words for yet… But he knew this feeling. He recognised it. He _understood_ it.

Steve had always known that being bonded to a vampire would change him. Even before he learned anything about vampires – he’d felt it happening. The physical reaction he had to Tony, the awareness he had of Tony’s hunger, the sense he had for Tony’s moods… Steve had always known that being a consort meant being something more than human. Something _else._

But he was only just discovering that it didn’t mean only one thing. It shifted, and changed – and, _sometimes_ , it became something else entirely…

For the most part, their relationship would have looked like anyone else’s. Of course, _they_ knew that this connection was always there, that even their most mundane domestic exchanges were based on a deeper understanding than any human would know… But they were the same domestic exchanges as anyone else, none the less. Day to day, it was the same dynamic as their human relationship would have been, just better. They talked to one another, and worried about one another, and looked out for one another. Steve was as free and as comfortable giving his point of view as he would have been before, as concerned for Tony’s wellbeing as Tony was for his, every bit as responsible and as in control as Tony was…

Until this happened.

These moments when Tony simply _had_ control of him. Moments when all authority and responsibility shifted onto Tony’s shoulders, moments when Steve’s burdens were just taken from him… This natural process, this physical and neurological reaction that they both seemed to have, whenever Steve really needed it – and _only_ then.

Steve knew, just _knew_ , that there was literally no way for Tony to forcibly take control of him like this. Just as he knew that he couldn’t surrender like this if Tony weren’t able and willing to take care of him. This reaction simply wouldn’t happen, _couldn’t_ happen, to only one of them. Neither of them could make this happen-

And neither of them could control it when it did.

On another night, it might’ve been different. Steve might simply have put his head on Tony’s shoulder, knowing that Tony understood, and cared, and maybe on another night that would’ve been enough.

But it turned out that, tonight, Steve needed _this_ -

And that’s why this was happening.

It began, as it always did, with that little surge of relief. A rush of light-headedness, as Steve’s ribs relaxed enough for him to take a comfortable breath.

And then he felt Tony squeeze his hand gently, and Steve was suddenly so _aware_ of him. The latent strength in Tony’s grip, the edges of rough skin on his fingertips, the warmth of his palm-

_That’s your blood, you know._

By the time they reached the top of the stairs, Steve was actually smiling.

And then Tony led him into the living room, and the smile melted into a more general look of amazement as Steve took in the scene in front of him…

Everything was so _soft_.

Most of the furniture had been taken away, leaving an abundance of space in the middle of the room that was entirely covered by blankets. Layers and layers of them, in every possible colour and texture, covering every inch of the floor. The couch had been pushed back against the far wall and draped with white cotton sheets. Standing next to it was a little wooden cabinet, the top of which was littered with items that Steve couldn’t make out from here – but he could guess.

And it wasn’t the setting itself that was so astonishing. It was the fact that, at the moment, after the particular day Steve had had, this was exactly what he’d wanted. That every little detail was so perfectly _right_ … Simple, and uncluttered, and _soft_. Undemanding and unconstrained, free of expectation and full of potential-

But Steve wouldn’t have known to ask for this.

He’d come here with a hot mess of irrational thoughts and a churning of conflicting emotions, not sure himself whether he wanted to rage or cry or just lie down in a darkened room – knowing he wanted _Tony_ , and not having to think further than that.

And he’d barely had the chance to talk to Tony before he came over,

And Tony could only have had the official reports to go on,

And yet Tony knew so well what Steve didn’t even know himself…

“Thank you,” Steve whispered, his throat feeling tight.

“Shhh,” Tony smiled kindly, tugging Steve’s hand, _come on_. Steve felt it pulling all the way along his arm, throbbing in his muscles – different to the little spark he always felt when Tony touched him. Deeper. More powerful.

Tony held his grip firm as he helped Steve step across the floor. There was a happy strangeness to the springiness of it underfoot, something harmlessly _fun_ … On another night it might’ve jarred with his mood, but right now it simply overwhelmed it, another wave of relief rolling though him as his mind relaxed, and quietened…

And then they reached the couch, and Tony placed a gentle palm to Steve’s chest, _stop_. Steve responded instinctively, coming to a patient pause under Tony’s hand. With the most subtle of gestures, Tony bid him, _lift your arms_. Steve just followed his commands, like he could hear Tony thinking… As quickly as that, Steve didn’t have to think for himself at all. He didn’t wonder why, he didn’t ask himself what happened next. He just let Tony undress him, obligingly shrugging his way out of his T-Shirt and stepping free of his jeans, blissfully free of all control.

His daytime thoughts were already slipping away from him, a new normal coming into form, making the real world seem strange and distant… But Steve could still remember himself enough to appreciate the novelty of this. The total security and exhilarating abandon that came with surrendering like this.

When Tony had stripped him completely he gave Steve the softest push, and Steve just let himself fall into the couch. The sheets felt so cool against his skin, silky soft and obviously expensive…

_They’ll be ruined before the end of the night…_

But Tony clearly wasn’t worried about that, and therefore neither was Steve. Tony decided those things, now.

Tony wrapped the sheets snug around him, before he sat beside him and encouraged Steve to rest his head in Tony’s lap. Steve just let himself fall, like he was sinking though himself. And then Tony ran a gentle hand through Steve’s hair, and whispered,

“It’s not your fault.”

Steve’s stomach tightened at that, his shoulders tensing just slightly at the sound of those words. There was the shadow of a memory – the sound of people screaming, and the smell of smoke.

The Army General, speaking instead as the father of a boy trapped in the wreckage, _if he dies in there it will be all your fault-_

Steve never found out whether the General’s son had been among the scorched remains… But someone’s son was. Someone’s best friend, someone’s mother, the love of someone’s life… piled on top of one another, along with the rest of the wreckage-

Steve had wanted to tell himself that it wasn’t his fault, but he’d felt too guilty for even trying-

He was _supposed_ to be responsible.

_You’re supposed to be Captain America._

“It feels like my fault,” he admitted sadly, subconsciously snuggling closer into Tony as he said it.

“You didn’t hide a bomb in a government research facility,” Tony reminded him. “You didn’t cut corners, or take unnecessary risks when you got there. You didn’t say, screw that, I’ve saved the world nine hundred times, I’ll sit this one out – like you have every right to. You turned up, and put yourself on the line, and saved as many lives as you could without putting others at risk. And then you stood there and let a group of angry people yell at you, because the person who’d really hurt them wasn’t there, and they needed someone to blame,” and then Tony traced a fingertip over the line of Steve’s jaw, _look at me_. He waited until Steve had met his eye before he added, “you feel responsible because you are good, and kind, and selfless, not because you did anything wrong. This is _not_ your fault.”

Steve swallowed hard, a hot, salty taste coating his tongue. His next breath trembled. At _any_ other time he would have fought that, at least a little, even if it was only in his own head-

But he couldn’t fight Tony. Not now.

Right _now_ , he could only accept what Tony told him… And maybe that meant it was only a minor reprieve. Maybe that made it an exercise in denial, or play pretend. But still, it was nice. Just for a moment, Steve could really believe it _wasn’t_ his fault, that he’d done _well_ today-

Because Tony said so.

“I tried…” Steve whispered… but the thought of finishing that sentence was suddenly overwhelming. If he couldn’t take the blame, if he couldn’t spiral into all the things he wished he could have done… Then he was just left with what had actually happened. How he really felt about it. And the idea of having to go through those events again, trying to find the words for all those conflicting emotions, struggling to decide whether he should say he was hurt or angry-

And then Tony’s fingertips were on his lips, kind but commanding.

“No,” he said, simply. “No talking.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped with relief, a pleasant giddiness floating though his head as it hit him. The last of his daytime thoughts abandoned him completely, along with all the guilt and doubt and anger. That change in him was complete, and the only words left in his head were,

_Yes Tony._

He let those words echo through his head like a pleasant melody as he melted into Tony again, letting him stroke his hands over Steve’s neck and shoulders, slow and firm and affectionate… The space around him seemed to stretch beyond its own limit, his surroundings floating further away from him until he felt like he and Tony were the centre of purely theoretical universe. Time lost all meaning. Steve didn’t know if it was minutes or hours that he lay there in Tony’s lap, letting Tony caress his way down Steve’s back, and over his arms, and through his hair… Moving him effortlessly, bringing him to lie on his back so that he could look up at Tony, while Tony stroked his palms over Steve’s chest.

Steve could feel _everything_ , when he fell open like this. The slippery luxury of the sheets against his skin, the way his muscles shifted under Tony’s touch, the way the air expanded in his lungs…

…His blood, pulsing through his veins.

Steve could feel the way it warmed under Tony’s hands, the way it pushed to the surface of his skin. He could feel it moving in every inch of his body, like it was stroking over his nerves, bringing everything into higher definition…

And then Tony ran a fingertip over Steve’s throat.

An electric thrill shot through Steve’s weakened limbs, leave a deep, pulsing heat in its wake. Steve gasped softly, subconsciously leaning into Tony’s touch. Tony smiled, indulgently.

“Hush,” he said, a playful warning tone to his voice. “ _Patience_.”

That heat pulsed lower, Steve’s cock throbbing hard as he replayed it in his head. He forced his shoulders to relax again, a warm contentment swelling up in him as he watched Tony smile, and nod, _good._

And there _was_ nothing beyond being good for Tony. Right now, that was all Steve wanted, all he was meant for, the only purpose that existed…

_Yes Tony._

Tony’s smile darkened, as his pressed his fingertips more firmly to the soft flesh of Steve’s throat. Steve’s blood ran hot, his balls tightening sharply, his breath stalling in his chest-

But he held his body still. He bit his tongue.

He would not lean up, or moan, or _speak_.

He would be good for Tony.

He even managed to contain that threatened trembling, as Tony dragged a finger along the vein, pressing just hard enough that it made Steve dizzy.

He didn’t whine, or fidget, as Tony went back to stroking his hand through his hair.

He fought to hold back a pleading whimper as that excitement grew more rapidly.

He resolved to ignore the intense tingling that was building under his skin, the pressure that was increasing in his hips.

Within moments, it was actually painful to maintain his pretend-relaxed posture. His eyes stung with the effort of it, his legs burning with desperation –

And Steve loved that.

He liked having something to push back against, something to _offer_. He liked being pushed to his limits like this. He liked that it wasn’t up to him to take what he wanted, that he didn’t have to work for this, that it wasn’t his responsibility to make it happen-

Being able to enjoy _wanting_.

Knowing that he could have it, that it _would_ happen-

When Tony said so.

Even as his cock began to weep sharply against the sheets, even as his entire body began to ache, still, Steve enjoyed enduring this-

And then Tony dug his fingernails into Steve’s shoulder, in _that_ exact spot-

Steve’s vision flashed with stars, his spine jarring with the inhuman effort it took to stay still and quiet. A more immediate desperation flared up in him, a wordless urgency shouting in his head.

He looked up at Tony with wide, pleading eyes. Tony smiled back, his eyes warm and dark.

“So good for me…”

Steve exhaled as subtly as he could, his fingers twitching against a desire to ball his hands into fists. And then Tony brushed a gentle touch over the side of Steve’s face.

“Up,” he commanded, simply. Steve’s shoulders tensed instantly, his arms scrambling to comply before he’d translated the word. Tony snaked one arm beneath him, lifting into a sitting position in one strong motion. Steve’s stomach dipped, like he was at the crest of a rollercoaster. He was still righting himself when he felt Tony hand curl over his arm, secure and protective-

And then Tony leant forward, and sank his teeth into Steve’s shoulder.

A surge of relief flooded through Steve’s body. His limbs fell loose, like his bones had all separated – a hot, basic pleasure rushing in to fill the gap.

His mouth fell open, his lips already curling into the shape of Tony’s name-

_No talking._

_Be good._

He pinched his lips tight as Tony bit down harder, pushing deeper into Steve’s muscles. A perfect, pure pain pulsed around Tony’s teeth, a vertiginous thrill rolling after it, flowing through him-

And then Tony pulled free, letting Steve’s blood trickle down over his arm, hot and thick and rapid. Steve’s head swam as that pressure released, the fog punctured by a little spike of pleasure with every beat of his heart-

And then the soft press of Tony’s lips, the slow drag of his tongue… sealing the wound.

Steve swallowed another whimper as the relief heated into a compulsive, needy longing.

 _More_ …

Tony hummed softly against his skin, pleased. _Teasing_. Steve had to bite his lip to keep himself from from begging, the words shouting desperately in his head,

_Please bite me Tony_

_Drink_

_Take_

_Please-_

Steve knew Tony knew. He could feel it in the way Tony curled his fingers around his arms, commanding and careful. He could hear it in the smile that Tony breathed against his neck,

_Patience._

Steve twitched again, sharper this time. The hunger was so much more vivid, so much more painful, now that he’d had that little taste of it-

So much _better_.

Steve’s body thrummed with it, the conflicting urges sparking against one another, barely contained inside him. There was an edge of controlled panic, a hypothetical disbelief that this could really go on… And a complete and total confidence that it would all be okay. Like being a kid in the audience of an illusionist’s show, free to enjoy this incredible sense of danger because he _knew_ it was going to be magicked away.

 _Tony_ would know when the tension had genuinely reached a breaking point.

So, Steve leant into it. He held himself still and let this agonising desperation overwhelm him, as Tony began to kiss and lick the blood away from Steve’s back. He was _thorough_ rather than slow, inching his way down along Steve’s body, running the flat of his tongue roughly over every inch of Steve’s skin, teasing over the sensitive spots with soft kisses, tracing the tip of his tongue over the fault lines between his muscles-

But Steve could feel the growing urgency of it. The way Tony’s fingers gripped more firmly, the way his kisses became messier and more demanding as he moved lower down Steve’s back.

As he tasted more of Steve’s blood.

Steve felt that familiar pride bloom up in him, soaking into all the other sensations currently pulsing through his body – every pain, every pleasure, was heightened and focused by the awareness of what it was doing for _Tony_.

_Tony wants you_

_Tony needs you_

_Only you._

And then, _just_ as that trembling was threatening to break through Steve’s control, Tony sat up and pulled Steve hard against his chest, so that he could whisper close,

“On the floor. On your knees.”

And Steve was always grateful that his body could respond to these orders directly, at moments like these – because he was far too excited to think about it. He scrambled to comply, tugging the sheets behind him, letting them fall away from his shoulders as he knelt in front of the couch-

He saw the dark crimson stain, still spreading slowly through the fabric, an illicit thrill pinching in his hips as he remembered how exciting that was…

_That’s why the white sheets…_

_Because Tony knows you like that…_

But Steve’s attention was snapped away from them when he heard Tony stand up, and then take a little half step towards him. The hair on the back of Steve’s neck stood on end, his breaths coming fast and shallow as he waited. He could feel Tony running his gaze down his back. He could _feel_ Tony smiling.

And then the lightest press of Tony’s fingertips, ghosting over Steve’s shoulder blade like a static charge-

_Forward._

Steve fell forward onto his hands, instinctively dropping his head and arching his back.

Presenting himself.

Submitting.

Surrendering.

At another time there might have been an exhilarated sort of shame to this, a forbidden thrill in being this exposed – but there was no such thing as shame, right now. Steve _liked_ the feeling of Tony’s eyes on him, the dark little purring noise he made…

Being good for Tony…

And then Tony stepped away, and there was the soft sweeping sound as Tony slipped his jacket over his shoulders.

Steve could so clearly picture him undressing. The way he dragged his tie free of his collar, the crisp white of his shirt against flawless tanned skin as he unfastened the buttons… There was a constant, compulsive urge to turn and look, to reach out for him, to call out – a repeated, grinding satisfaction at overcoming it.

The ache in his hips tightened, the edge of pain bleeding into his breathing now, a pleading tone to every little gasp. His fingers pressed hard into the blankets, his only outlet for any of this barely tolerable pressure. His cock throbbed sharply, leaking steadily against his stomach, dripping onto the blankets. It was the most basic human instinct that urged him, again and again, to touch himself, the way he would immediately press his hand to a burn-

And an even deeper, more fundamental instinct that reminded him, _be still_.

Every nerve in his body jumped, as he heard the little scuffle of Tony taking something from the top of the cabinet. Every cell seemed to pull closer together, as Tony knelt down behind him-

Steve’s breath caught, as Tony stroked a hand down over his waist, caressing more firmly over the curve of his ass.

“Perfect,” Tony purred, his voice warm and dark. “You look so beautiful, waiting for me like this…”

Without even realising he was doing it, Steve bowed his head lower, dropping his shoulders. And then Tony let his hand slide down between Steve’s legs, stroking over his thigh. Steve was forced to pinch his lips together, a strangled little _mmm_ escaping his throat as Tony scraped his nails over his skin, his head swimming as his entire body tensed down towards Tony’s hand.

And then the searing absence, as Tony took his hand away.

And then the little _snick_ of Tony opening the bottle of lube.

Steve let his forehead rest against the blankets, spreading his legs, bodily begging Tony to touch him again. The next few seconds stretched to the very limit of possibility-

Until Tony pressed his fingers firm against Steve’s rim.

Steve choked out a low gasp, barely registering the shock of it before Tony had pushed two fingers into him in one smooth motion. It felt so much, so _real_ , that for a second it was overwhelming, his mind completely whiting out, his body unable to translate these sensations. And then Tony twisted his fingers, sending a low pleasure grinding through him.

Steve felt himself fall apart, each of his muscles taking it upon themselves to surrender completely as Tony began to move inside him, thrusting into him slow and deep, again and again-

Within seconds Tony had pushed Steve to that fine line between bliss and agony, the intense, immediate pleasure stoking that painful need for more. The drag of Tony’s fingers sending wave after wave of electric shocks right through the core of him, finally pressing against that aching, internal longing – but not breaking it. Teasing it. Deliberately provoking that desperation-

Oh God, Steve wanted Tony to bite him. To drink from him.

He wanted to scream, to beg.

He wanted to come.

He never wanted this to stop-

And then the heat of Tony’s breath against his hip, and the familiar jolt as his teeth traced _maddeningly_ lightly over that one particular spot-

_Oh please, please baby please-_

Steve could feel his lungs burning, his ribs straining against the effort of containing it, like all these pleas and promises were literally building up in his chest-

And then Tony sank his teeth into the tender skin just above Steve’s hipbone, a low growl escaping his chest as be bit down, _hard_.

Steve barely swallowed a scream, caught off guard by the hot pleasure that curled in him as he clenched around Tony’s fingers. Tony pulled his hand back slowly as he dug his teeth deeper into Steve’s flesh, the spike of pain meeting that surge of pleasure, the contrasting forces pulling him apart from the inside out. He could feel himself on that knife edge, the urgency of the moment cutting into him-

He was so ready to fall-

But again, Tony didn’t drink. He pulled his teeth free and simply let the blood run freely over Steve’s legs, his fingers still twisting inside him. The pleasure of it rushed up against his limits, forced up hard against them – and fell away.

He wanted to release this pressure, and he wanted to keep pushing it-

He wanted to scream, and he wanted to stay quiet-

He _wanted_ -

And then Tony dropped his head again to seal the wound, sending another agonising shock through Steve as he sucked far too gently against the cut, _so_ close to what Steve needed, holding him in this state of impossible desperation. Tony pushed another finger into him, curling his knuckles against Steve’s rim as he began to lick the blood away.

He moved more quickly this time, sweeping his tongue over the curve of Steve’s ass, sucking against his skin hard enough to bruise. Steve began to pant noisily, his bones trembling under the intensity of it, his head full of anguished pleading. He felt Tony’s other hand press against the inside of his thigh, his palm caressing firmly over the soft skin as he traced the tip of his tongue over the line of Steve’s groin, and then began lapping at the little trails of blood that were running over his balls. Steve clenched his teeth so hard it hurt his skull, now gripping the blankets so tightly that his knuckles were white.

Oh, God, it couldn’t go on. He was just going to snap under the weight of this, his heart was going to give out, he was going to suffocate, he-

And then Tony pulled away completely.

A feral scream lodged itself in Steve’s throat, his jaw shaking with the effort of containing it. His vision faded; his hearing drowned out by the beating of his heart. His cock throbbed, a tight pain pulsing in his balls, his mind a constant, panicked siren, _please Tony, please Tony, please Tony._

“Oh, you are _so_ good Steve,” Tony breathed, his voice low and jagged. “You’ve been so good for me, I’m so proud of you…” And he looped one arm under Steve’s chest, lifting him back onto his knees as though he were weightless. Steve collapsed into him, trusting Tony to keep him upright, already tilting his chin up, baring his throat.

_Please Tony, please Tony, please-_

And then Tony buried his head in the crook of Steve’s neck, his breath hot against Steve’s skin as he whispered,

“You can talk now sweetheart. You can tell me what you want-”

“ _Please_ bite me Tony,” Steve begged, a physical relief flooding through him as dropped the burden of silence. “Drink, please, I _need_ you to, please, please-” he let his head fall onto Tony’s shoulder, shrugging up to meet his lips. He could _feel_ Tony smiling.

“ _You_ can have anything you want in the world,” he promised, already searching his way along Steve’s throat, finding that one particular spot.. “Because you are good…”

And then he pressed a tender kiss to Steve’s neck, the tip of his tongue tracing over the vein before he let his teeth rest against Steve’s skin. Steve felt the blood surge to meet him, a heat flooding up through his chest, an ache building as his heart pumped faster than his body could contain it-

And then, _at last_ , Tony sank his teeth into Steve’s throat.

There was a deep stab of visceral pleasure, all the way down Steve’s spine, hotter and sharper and _better_ than anywhere else Tony bit him. There was the tiniest little give in the tension, like his lungs had loosened half an inch, the vindication of finally _finding it_ , just waiting for that last little tug-

And then Tony sucked hard, dragging the blood up through Steve’s body, physically ripping that pressure clean out of him. It was like a damn bursting. Suddenly all this excess feeling, all that pleasure and pain and longing, just rushed free of him, breaking him open at this point of entry. He lost himself completely, swept away on this tidal wave of sensation, helpless against the sheer abundance of perfect, limitless pleasure.

Tony sucked another long, slow mouthful, the feeling even more vivid now that there was literally no resistance to it. Steve could feel the blood being pulled through his veins, through every inch of him, bringing every other sensation along with it – tugging that low ache in his groin up through his hips, crushing it under the power of this release. Steve came hard against his stomach, the relief of it simply melting into the rush of Tony drinking from him, the aftershocks running in his blood, like Tony was dragging him climax up through his body, dragging it out. He choked out a sob, cut short when Tony drained another heavy gulp. It was like he was breaking over and over, coming and coming, held at the crest of this wave – freefalling, with no end in sight…

And then Tony pulled free of him.

It was like being yanked clean out of reality. Like pulling a parachute. There was a surge of oxygen, clean and crisp and sweet tasting, rushing straight to his head. His vision blurred; his body fell away from him. Suddenly, Steve was just _floating_ , the memory of the fall still rushing through his head, all of his senses heightened to the point that they were no use to him – it was all so much, it didn’t mean anything.

And then he recognised the pounding in his head, the burning in his lungs.

The tender warmth of Tony’s lips against his neck, which he only understood as a safe, happy feeling…

A heaviness that he felt strangely distant to – like he could feel it happening to someone else, miles below him.

There was no tension left in him anywhere. Eventually the dead weight of his body overbalanced, falling against Tony’s chest.

Tony caught him.

Of course he did.

Slowly, Steve began to piece himself together. He realised that his chest was heaving, his legs were trembling, his back was sheened with sweat. His head was still spinning.

And _everything_ felt good.

For a few minutes he could only bask in it. The freedom of being this relaxed and open, the overwhelming relief, the hot shivers that fizzed through his fluid muscles. The echo of that low, pulsing pleasure, still throbbing in his hips.

The indescribable, impossible wave of pure _love_.

He tried to whisper Tony’s name, managing a weak little mewing sound. Tony smiled.

“You feel better sweetheart?” He whispered, stroking a palm over Steve’s ribs. Steve just nodded, as enthusiastically as he could manage – although, truthfully, he had no recollection whatsoever of ever feeling bad. He couldn’t remember anything outside of this room, couldn’t conceive of any other priority… But he knew he felt better. That this was as good as it was possible to feel. Tony let his head rest on Steve’s shoulder, his hands stroking over Steve’s waist, curving over his hips. “Good…”

Steve felt himself pulling towards Tony in an entirely different way. An emotional longing, rather than a physical need – that urge throw your arms around someone in moments of joy and celebration, but so much stronger.

That not-unpleasant emptiness began to form in some unknown place inside him, that yearning to be _close_ to Tony…

Tony pulled Steve into him, his palms so much hotter against Steve’s skin now, his whole body imbued with that inhuman strength…

_That’s your blood you know…_

“Beautiful, and strong, and brave…” Tony purred, rocking into him. Steve felt Tony’s cock pressed hard against the small of his back, and a little tug low in his gut – different to the spike of desire that would usually be there. An affectionate, sentimental urge, something warm and safe and without sharp edges.

“You are _perfect_ , Steve,” Tony whispered, as he spread Steve open, moving Steve into position. “You are everything I’ve ever wanted, the only thing I _need_ , you make me so happy…”

He pushed into Steve so easily. A comfortable friction rolled languidly along Steve’s back, a snug feeling of contentment swelling in him as Tony filled him up. It felt _right_ to be close to Tony now, in such a fundamental, ancient way..

“Fuck Steve, you feel _so_ good…” Tony breathed, rocking into him very gently “So good for me…”

“Tony…”

“My beautiful Steve…”

“Yours,” Steve promised, a dreamy smile on his lips, his body still heavy in Tony’s arms.

Tony carried on with that same gentle pace, his hands stroking protectively over Steve’s skin, now slippery with sweat and come. Steve let it pulse inside him, warm and steady and unhurried. Not building to anything, not wanting for anything –

Just _good_.

And Steve could just _take_ it. He didn’t have to earn it, or prove he deserved it. He didn’t have to move; he didn’t have to think. There was no guilt, no concept that he wasn’t ‘supposed’ to…

And then Tony pulled back, so that he could thrust into Steve slow and deep, quickly falling into that new rhythm. A soft moan fell over Steve’s lips, as that comfort heated into a more present pleasure, that grinding satisfaction that pulled him out of the clouds and into this sensation instead.

Just the feeling of Tony moving inside him, the friction under his skin, the glorious contentment of it – just that.

Tony’s hand stroked lower, his fingers curling around Steve’s cock. Steve throbbed hard again under his palm, like he was simply stretching into this feeling, a wonderful ache spreading through the small of his back.

And then Tony thrust into him harder, sharper, hitting that sweet spot inside him and holding him there.

“Fu-fuck, _ah-_ ”

“You make _such_ pretty little noises for me” Tony growled, pushing into him again, this time gripping Steve’s waist with his free hand, so that he could pull Steve into him.

There was a sudden, bright flash in Steve’s head as Tony hit his prostate again, his other hand dragging roughly over the head of Steve’s cock. A more urgent sensation shot through him, catching him off guard… an edge of hunger, echoing after it.

“ _more-please-more,”_ came out in one rush of air, swallowed by a strangled cry as Tony thrust into him hard.

“ _Mine_ ,” Tony hissed, as he began to move faster, his hand moving on Steve’s cock in time with his hips. Steve moaned, rocking back against him now, searching for that release with increasing desperation as grew closer and closer to it.

“Tony…” He begged, his voice high and whiney as he teetered on the edge again, some of the tension returning to his wrecked muscles as he tried to push against it. And then he felt the slightest stutter in that brutal rhythm, Tony’s fingers flexing around Steve’s cock as his thrusts became sharper and shallower…

And then, in a low growl, Tony ordered,

“Come for me.”

Steve moaned something like Tony’s name as his second orgasm broke, writhing against Tony’s cock as the aftershocks shuddered through him. His legs were still twitching when he heard Tony let go of an animalistic roar, grabbing Steve’s hips with both hands as he buried himself inside him-

And God, Steve _loved_ it when Tony made that sound-

He loved the feeling of Tony coming inside him-

He _loved_ -

“-you so much, I love you, I love you, so, so much,” he had apparently been babbling for a while now.

“I love you Steve,” Tony smiled warmly, pressing a deep, slow kiss to his throat. “And I’m _so_ very proud of you, so proud you’re mine…”

“Yours,” Steve promised again, breathlessly, as everything started to catch up with him.

His limbs trembled, weak and aching and flooded with pleasure.

His breathing was still desperate and heavy, his chest burning with exertion.

His skin was sticky, and wet, and marked with deep purple bruises that he wished wouldn’t fade so quickly.

He was completely broken, entirely spent and exhausted-

And oh so very, very happy…

“Come here,” Tony smiled, curling an arm around Steve’s waist and all but lifting him, so that he could lie Steve out on his back. A delighted giggle bubbled over Steve’s lips, as his weight sank into the softness of the blankets. He spread his arms out, letting his head fall back, enjoying the simple novelty of being sprawled out on the floor like this. He could hear Tony standing, and moving over to the cabinet, a distant background noise to the happy mindlessness he’d fallen into. He let his eyes slip shut, and focused on the pleasant pulsing in the small of his back…

“Eyes open baby, come on,” Tony’s voice came from just beside him. Steve blinked, his vision already obscured by purple shadows, sleep closing in around the edges.

And then Tony’s hand sliding between Steve’s shoulders and the floor, helping him up just enough to lie in Tony’s lap. His hand curling protectively over the back of Steve’s head, guiding Steve to lean up a little. And then the edge of a water bottle, pressed so carefully to Steve’s lips. Steve didn’t even go to move his arms – he didn’t have to. He just parted his lips and let a burst of cool, clean water wash over his tongue, soothing his dry throat. He was _always_ surprised by how nice that was, how deeply and purely satisfying it was… He swallowed hungrily, feeling his body cool and soften, draining the bottle while Tony looked down on him, affectionately.

And then he took a long, comfortable breath, his chest easing as his heart slowed. Everything felt heavy…

“Good boy,” Tony smiled, throwing the bottle aside before he brushed a fingertip over Steve’s jaw. Steve lifted his chin obligingly, letting his head fall back as Tony pressed an ice pack over the bruise on his throat. Even the shock of that felt muted, wrapped in the warm blanket of sleepy contentment…

“What now?” Steve whispered – for no other reason than he liked being able to say it. He liked not having to find that answer for everyone else, not having to pretend he already knew…

“Now, you rest,” Tony replied warmly, dropping his head to kiss Steve’s forehead. “And then we’ll get you cleaned up, and wrapped up in soft things, and I can finish telling you just how wonderful you are…”

Steve snuggled closer into Tony’s lap, his eyes already closing.

“Yes, Tony.”


End file.
